


Debt

by sourtongue



Series: AU Drabbles [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: also he killed glenn & abe in 6x16 for this au so uh, carl's hating himself because everybody hates him too, except enid n his dad ofc, its a long story but hes been with the saviors/negan since the beginning, savior!carl but he's switching to team family, u can make sense of why nobody in alexandria likes him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourtongue/pseuds/sourtongue





	Debt

"You know you don't have to wrap it up right?" 

Carl makes a face at the tightening of the bandage around his head, winces at the tug of his hair as it's untangled and freed from the wrap. 

He's more than capable of applying it himself but it's always easier when someone else does it, besides, Enid is the only person he's the most comfortable with getting so close to him like this. 

He hates how self-conscious he's become since moving to Alexandria.

"I know but it's easier this way."

Enid's hands are smooth, fluid with the way she wraps the unravelling remainder of the elastic bandage around Carl's head, clipping any excess together to hold it in place. Though she's finished with the wraps, she's still standing behind him, fingers beginning to twirl in the strands of his hair.

"Easier for who?"

Carl finds himself fighting a yawn, mentally battles against the fingers in his hair and it's unplanned attempt to lull him to sleep in the chair he sits in and he immediately shakes off the sleep. 

"I don't know. Them. Me. Everybody, I guess."

In his mind he shrugs but there's no actual movement that follows. He wants to tell Enid to stop but in reality, he doesn't quite want her too. It's comforting and calming and makes him feel less like the enemy even though he knows he deserves to feel it.

"I've done enough to these people. I've scarred them enough. Having me move in here after killing two of their people, having to see me everyday? The clothes aren't going to make them forget that." 

He glances down involuntarily at himself, at the flannel and undershirt that rests against his frame, the navy blue denim with the worn, faded patches on his knees.

"That hat isn't going to make them forget that."

His jaw sets tightly as he glances in the hats direction as it sits on the tabletop, dented in badge staring him down in between the scratches and scuffs along it's metal surface.

"My face won't make them forget that." 

A tablespoon of venom drips into his voice at that and he fights not to curl in on himself and disappear altogether. It's hard not to he angry with himself, to not be disgusted. The clattering of medical supplies as Enid begins to put them away is somewhat of a distraction to his self-loathing.

"The least I can do is cover it up."

He's standing up before his brains' registered that he's even left the chair, cupping the crown of his hat before bringing it down to rest on top of his head.

The doorknob fits into the mold of his palm, grown clammy with something akin to regret, shame and self-hate and he doesn't turn to look back at Enid before he's opening the door and walking out.

"I owe them that much."


End file.
